"No" Vember

For those of you that have been a 2-year-old, are a 2-year-old, or are raising a 2-year-old (that should cover all my readers), then you are familar with "No". It is the 2-word chorus of the 2-year-old.

However, rebuttals and rebellion come in much more provocative ways. For instance:

"Stop acting like a child".

My 2-year-old daughter told me that today. Notice there is "no" exclamation on that sentence. She looked me dead in the eyes and made that statement. She made that statement because I asked her to not stand on the toilet seat when attempting to wash her hands. As her body dangerously dangled over the sink, her heartbeat never changed, like some seasoned scuba diver wanting me to just leave her to her practice. There she was, seconds away from cracking her jaw on the faucet telling me:

"Stop acting like a child."

Last weekend, I was running like a grown man. Every November, since 2012, I run in the 5-mile Morley's Run. "No" body questions my authority from Westmont to downtown Johnstown. I was really happy with my time. The next day I discovered that a 60-year-old man finished a place ahead of me. This fact could have robbed me of my happiness, but I've lost to a wide variety of runners before in my racing career; most notably to a 9-year-old named Natasha way back in 2007 ("Stop acting like an Olympian, Natasha)."

Yes, I remember it vividly. That's how PTSD works.

Anyway, congratulations to all the runners, volunteers, and supporters of Morely's Run. As long as my legs work and my house is crazy, I'll be at the Morley's starting line each autumn.

Now, let's run back to the toilet.

Our society has tried to glamorize going to the bathroom by deeming it "potty training". First, "potty" is an uncomfortable word. It doesn't make the learning curve any easier by leading with "potty". It is "toilet training". Everyone needs to grow up and understand that the toilet is here to stay. And, if you don't train properly, you are going to be left in the dust, like me when I lose to 9-year-old girls and grandfathers.

Our 2-year-old likes to procrastinate toilet time by announcing "2-minutes". Now, this is absurd on 2 accounts. One, she can't tell time. Two, she makes no commitment to not peeing her pants during this untimed procrastinaton. It frustrates everyone except her. And that really is what toilet training comes down to: the day you realize that peeing your pants is no longer worth it. I truly believe every human being does a pros/cons analysis as a child. And until the cons outweigh the pros, we pee our pants. And we smile. Which leads me to my final point.

Smiling is the way to go. When you are toilet trained and able to reflect back, there is a whole lot to be grateful for. My pros greatly outweigh the cons. Johnstown's pros greatly outweight the cons.

And when I was a 2-year-old, there was no Internet. There was no place to blog. I am grateful for the opportunity to share my life and share some positivity via the World Wide Web, but I recognize how negative this way of communicating has become.  If you are going to post, do it like a pro. Run with the positive pack. Making rude comments on the Internet is much like peeing your pants. It's messy. It's self-fulfillling. It needs to change (pants included).

Tonight, I hope my girls sleep well and dream big. I'll encourage them to not stand on the toilet seat when they brush their teeth.

Goodnight, Johnstown. Encourage on.

"No, thank you" to negativity.

Festival, Field, Farm, and Forest: Part 2

Festival

Every October our family celebrates the French and Indian War before Halloween. (What?!?!)

Well, here is the thing. In Ligonier, there was a British fortification along time ago. And now, there is a museum that commemorates the fort and the history. And it is recognized as a National Historic site. And generations of people have come to the fort to see what it is all about. And on one particular weekend in October, every year, thousands of people flock to Ligonier for a bunch of different reasons.

When a 2-year-old arrives at Fort Ligonier Days, she tries to grasp the magnitude; the history; the fellowship. She patrols the crowd. She soaks in the drizzle. No precipitation, no matter how strong, will rain on this parade. As the bands start to play and the horses gallop, she spots the reason why she has come this far...

The Oscar Mayer Wienermobile.

Pure joy is when a rain-soaked man in a hot dog costume, waving from his luxurious wienermobile, captures the eye of a little girl. She loves him for what he is - a rain-soaked man in a hot dog costume - and she loves hot dogs, having no concept of the pig they once were. It can only be described as a magical moment between a heartfelt fanatic and a ballpark frank.

I haven't cried in public in a long time.

Field Trip /Farm

That same 2-year-old did not participate in a field trip to Vale Wood Farms the following Monday. She was a bit under the weather, maybe still under a cloud of mist and magic from Ligonier. Alas, my wife and I accompanied my 4-year-old to Vale Wood for two solid hours of pre-Halloween hysteria.

We started with a tractor ride. The weather was perfect autumn - a shining sun, crisp air, and a farmland smell. My eldest daughter was not convinced it was a real farm. She expressed this to me as we were being pulled by a tractor. Her contention was that real farms had more than cows. She was quite disturbed. I reassured her that Vale Wood Farms was real and not some Hollywood set in Loretto. My words were meaningless.

Then, we saw two pigs. Authentic farm. Soon to be hot dogs, but nonetheless, authentic farm.

After the hayride, there was plenty to do. Vale Wood has a water balloon launcher constructed into wooden poles to send gourds into the atmosphere. There is even targets to aim for or small children if you are some sort of madman. Gourd launcher - genius with a touch of danger. If you want to steer clear of flying gourds, the corn maze offers confusion and of course, corn. My daughter was initially bored by the concept, but once we got into the maze, she lit up like a jack-o-lantern. It was a fun walk amongst the stalks. It was time for lunch.

My lunch was pumpkin a la mode. It was pumpkin ice cream topped on a pumpkin gob. It was healthy because A) milk does a body good and B) pumpkin is a vegetable. If you had ever viewed the expanded version of the food pyramid, you would find pumpkin a la mode in fine print at the peak.

Thank you Vale Wood - for the cows, for the pigs, for one great pumpkin party!

Field

On the 3rd Saturday of October, the field was out in harvest glory for the Red Cross Vampire 5K/10K. This annual run supports a tremendous organization. Dressed as a pumpkin, I separated from the patch and enjoyed the sunshine and Halloween spirit. Costume camaraderie was all around.

I treated myself to a maple glazed donut after crossing the finish line. Year after year, race after race, I enjoy seeing the community in motion - on the pavement, on the trail, around town. Runners and walkers set the stage for the next generation so they just don't sit at home and eat maple glazed donuts. Eat maple glazed donuts after crossing a finish line.

Special thanks to the Red Cross for organizing this great seasonal event. Thanks to the Johnstown Running Club for their growing initiative - to organize an exercise-enthused community.

Forest

Saturday afternoon was reserved for Mom and Dad time. Mom and Dad time @ Royal Berkshire, the regal nickname of Berkley Hills golf course. My wife and I hit many a tree, but lost no balls to the forest. It was 9 holes of mediocre, splendid golf. It was our autumn Master's.

As October leads to November, get out and enjoy our landscape while you can. Do not be foolish and prescribe to a myth that there is nothing to do in Johnstown.

Like Frankenstein, Johnstown is alive.

Live it up.

Festival, Field, Farm, and Forest

Festival

The Bedford Fall Foliage Festival could also be named "The Bedford Fall Mass of Humanity Festival". It is that rare occasion where I happily enter into a congested sea of people. On the 2019 Saturday that my wife and I walked the streets of Bedford, the weather was awesome autumn. Everyone and their autumn mother was sipping on apple cider and searching for Christmas gifts. 

My wife and I have treated the Bedford Fall Foliage Festival as our Christmas wonderland. She creates this Santa-style spreadsheet of relatives that have been nice over the last year. I wander thru tents using gut reactions that spruce up in the autumn air. We hold hands as long as we can. Not out of love, but out of safety. It's like Bedford bumper cars on those streets. 

Our pumpkinhead kids did not attend the Fall Foliage of 2019 because they had a scheduled sleepover at their grandparents' residence. Good for them. 

Field

In a land called Schellsburg, there are bison. Upon leaving Bedford, you can quickly adventure out of the mass of people to view the massive beast that is the bison. Standing upon a hillside, one glorious bison was visible from Route 30. Across the street, there is The Bison Corral, a gift shop for the ages. A part of me wanted to be more National Geographic and be in the field with the bison. My wife wanted no part of that. Alas, we walked into the commercial corral. 

I did not make a purchase, but I could have bought Native American artifacts, a coffee mug, and pounds of bison meat. Talk about sprucing up somebody's Christmas. I appreciate small businesses like The Bison Corral. If you find yourself on Route 30, I recommend a stop and the view. 

Also, according to the website, bison can run up to 35 MPH and weigh up to 2,000 pounds. Listen to your wives and stay out of the field. 

Farm

This October Saturday finished at Summer Smiles Honey Farm. Our first Saturday of October was a kid-free autumn adventure so we obviously concluded it by slumbering on a honey farm. In Stoystown, Summer Smiles Honey Farm is there for the taking in all four seasons. 

There are multiple lodging options on this property. We stayed in the "Tiny House". Tiny it twas and it twas terrific. In contrast, the surrounding acreage was expansive and for exploration. I made barnyard friends - human and animal. We shared parenting tips with a couple expecting their first child. I befriended goats. We awoke to Cock-A-Doodle-Doo. Fireside chats occurred outside our chalet. The stars shined. I looked up into the night sky and thought about my kids. 

I thought, if we ever come back here, they can sleep at their grandparents' again. 

Forest

On Sunday, I got back to my roots - my Stackhouse park roots. My daughters have become trail blazers under my tutelage. My 4-year-old understands the concept of Leave No Trace. My 2-year-old sometimes understands that large sticks can be weapons. 

In surrounding countryside communities and neighborhood nature, there is always an opportunity to learn and explore. 

Part 2 of Festival, Field, Farm and Forest will be written later this October. Hold on to your horses and pumpkins. 

Autumn Academics

On the final weekend of this September, and the first weekend of autumn, I drove my family to Plymouth, Massachusetts and back. I, the Clark Griswold of the bunch, did my best to drive safe and learn valuable lessons along the way. Here is my Top 10 lampoon:

10. The back of the bus can be beautiful.

We were not driving to Plymouth to see the rock (incredibly underwhelming). My wife's college roommate was getting married. My wife was a bridesmaid. My daughters were the flower girls. I was Clark Griswold. I was behind the wheel for the entire New England odyssey except for when we rode a school bus to the ceremony.

My daughters headed straight to the back of the bus. There is a country song that goes "there is a lot about life you learn on the bus, how to lie, how to fight, how to kiss, how to cuss". In my recollection, the back of the bus was indeed some sort of bandit cove, where villians and mongrels gathered.

On a sunny Saturday in 2019, I watched two little girls in white dresses stare out the window, side-by-side in angelic harmony. There was no lying, fighting, kissing, or cussing. My 2-year-old was fascinated with the emergency exit for a short period, believing it was some sort of magical lever to a parallel universe. I calmly told her to stop or we would ruin the wedding by falling out into traffic.

9. When in doubt, go see Dr. Seuss.

At the Mystic Aquarium in Connecticut, there is a Seuss quote that reads, "Unless someone like you cares a whole awful lot, nothing is going to get better, it's not". 

No pressure, Doctor. We spent a full morning adventuring through the aquarium, getting eye-to-eye with turtles, octopus, and a rainbow of fish. My favorite encounter was with a giant Japanese spider crab. Claw to claw, this aquatic monster can grow up to 13 feet. Yikes.

I encountered the spider crab in the Men's bathroom.

Just kidding.

8. Don't eat the blue lobster.

There was a blue lobster at the aquarium. He was not clinically depressed. He was actually and stunningly blue. The blue lobster caretaker gave us a lot of factoids about the blue lobster, including that you are to not eat the blue lobster.

I think she told us this because my daughters were circling the crustacean's waterway like piranhas. "Sir, can you tell your children to back up. I think they are hungry."

7. If you are depressed, jump on a jumping pillow.

We spent one night at the Mystic KOA in a superb and cozy cabin. When we got out of our Subaru, I led my family to the jumping pillow. We could have spent an eternity on this bouncy innovation. Under the Constitution State sun, our family of 4 bounced up into the heavens like carefree kangaroos.

6. The lobster roll is a winner.

In Plymouth, I ate my first lobster roll. I've consumed lobster before, but never the roll version of the crustacean. When I asked the server for a "blue lobster roll", I was looked upon like some seaside scavenger, a bumbling barbarian from Pennsylvania.

In all seriousness, my lobster roll was red. Red like love. And it was delicious.

5. Nothing beats continential breakfast.

What genius declared breakfast continental? In Plymouth, we had 3 mornings of around-the-world-most-important-meal-of-the-day grub. When you take small children to a continental breakfast, there is so much less anxiety. You don't have to worry about ordering. You don't have to wait. You just take one bite out of a muffin and move on. Dabble in Fruit Loops. Combine juices. Melt hearts by simply being a family of 4 trying to survive a continental breakfast.

4.  I don't care.

During the wedding reception, my wife and I were the only people with kids. Our flower girls were the only girls. As the dance floor caught fire, the band Icona Pop blazed a trail of glory with their song "I Love It". The refrain, "I don't care, I love it, I don't care" echoed in the Massachusetts wilderness. The actual band Icona Pop was not present. DJ T-REX was behind the tunes.

When you are dancing with your family to DJ T-REX and Icona Pop, you have climbed the Clark Griswold mountain and planted a fatherhood flag on the summit.

3. I care.

This actually has nothing to do with my family's most recent trip, but it is worth commentary. Once when my 4-year-old got her finger smashed in a door, I did not emotionally react. One, I did not think the injury was life-threatening. Two, I was poised. When I got her in the car, and she was presumably emotionally stable, she uttered the following:

"Dad, you know how Mom like cares when we get hurt?  You don't care. You like don't care."

And it is times like these when I think of a thirteen foot Japanese spider crab dragging me out into the open ocean.

2. Home is sweet.

We left Plymouth at 7:30 A.M. on the final day of September. We got back to Johnstown around 8:30 P.M. that night. A lot happened in between. God delivered fog and rain to make the final hour a real doozy. In the end, we safely entered into our humble abode. We dreaded laundry. We yearned for continental breakfast. We were exhausted.

Our daughters were eye-pierced excited.

1. Alas, October.

The 10th month of the year is one of my favorites. The autumn air rolls in as the summer sun says goodbye; however, I did do a slip-in-slide on 10/3/19 in Johnstown. It was 80+ degrees and I let the good times flow.

I can only hope October is as good as this September. I love to travel. I love my home.

Be good to your neighbor and family this fall. Treat every day as if it were a blue lobster - rare, awesome, and bright.

Sweet September

Our family of 4 spent the final August weekend of 2019 in Hershey, PA, the "sweetest place on Earth". So, from an astronomalical and culinary viewpoint, it was a critical transition from summer to autumn in our household. I, being the Mufasa of our pride, decided that Tuesday, September 10th was unoffcially our last day of summer. Our children would each attend their first day of school the following day and unofficially no one truly appreciated the extent of my expedition.

Alas, we traversed into Stackhouse Park for one last summer run at creekside adventure. My 4-year-old had evolved into a waterway waterwoman - fully adaptable to rushes of aqua and pools of H2O. My 2-year-old girl is a tempermental salamander hunter. She is Crocodile Dundee one minute, Alligator "No Thank You" the next. Together, they are blessings. 

As we adventured in the creek, my wife provided supervision and support from the trail. When my 2-year-old tapped out, the love of my life signaled for my 4-year-old and I to venture on. As the sun began to set, we all soaked in the last days and rays of summer. The heat was welcomed. The cool of the stream was refreshing. 

Under rocks and in creekside crevices, we found those slippery salamanders. This amphibian hunt was exciting and silly, two adjectives I could attach to all my fatherhood feats. When our adventure was coming to a close, my eldest daughter and I found a surprise in that cool water. A hatchet, with a canary yellow handle, bounced between geological bumpers, awaiting our discovery. I was that Dad emerging from the Stackhouse stream, daughter in one hand, weapon in the other. 

The ride back home was typical; chatty, combative, and precious. My 2-year-old is currently in a stage where Mommy has to buckle her in. Not only are Daddy's buckling skills inferior, they are downright detestable. If you watched me try to buckle in my Saint Patrick's Day baby, you would believe I was a lunatic incapable of compassion and curbside courtesy. If she had to celebrate one more vehicular holiday with me, she would opt to find the nearest cliff. 

Alas, I love my life. I love my kids. I love the vulnerability I sleep with at night. Not knowing what tomorrow will bring. Not fully capable of understanding what happened today. Knowing that family life is my plot.

As summer turns to fall, I enthusiastically look ahead. On September 11, 2019, I picked my 4-year-old up from school. She was innocent. She was awesome. I remembered what September 11, 2001 felt like so many moons ago. 

I am grateful for my daughters' teachers. I am grateful for my family and the adventures we have had to date. Last Sunday, by the grace of God, I stumbled upon the book, A Walk in the Woods. The author writes the following as he hikes the Appalachian trail, streching from Georgia to Maine: "Life takes on a neat simplicity, too. Time ceases to have any meaning. When it is dark, you go to bed, and when it is light again you get up, and everything in between is just in between. It's quite wonderful really. You have no engagements, commitments, obligations, or duties"

On this final day of summer, I felt that simplicity. The joy of being with my daughters. The joy of being with my wife. The roar of the stream. The quiet of nature. 

The 2019 summer was a hoot. There is a unique hooray when autumn arrives.

Support your community and treat every season as a blessing. 

Summer School

On Thursday, August 8th, I started my summer vacation. I attended the Community Foundation For the Alleghenies annual event known as Founders' Day. This year's focus - to discuss the development and growth of our area's trail system. Sitting by my wife, summer vacation was off to a good start.

In 2013, I sat with my wife at this same venue - Peoples Natural Gas Park. It was for our wedding reception and we were the first couple to use PNG Park as our marriage celebration site. 6 years and 2 kids later, our love for our community continues to grow, much like how those trails continue to evolve. The Founders' Day message was simple: trails connect people. My wife and I are living proof of that. 

The next day, we left at 4:06 A.M. for the beach. Family car rides connect people, but if you leave extremely early in the morning, you allow your children to connect with you four hours into the trip. This strategy is an act of love and to maintain sanity. I am proud to say, we executed the plan to perfection. 

Beach week reveals a lot about the family dynamic and the ability to disconnect from routine. Above all, this year's trip reinforced what I have always believed - the Great Outdoors is the ultimate classroom. To see my kids splashing, dashing and thrashing - that is learning at its finest. We were dragonfly chasers by day and crab hunters by night. On our final full coastal day, we took what felt like a safari in a wildlife refuge. We saw great blue herons, osprey, and the landscape that connects Virginia and North Carolina. Our guide was even able to wrangle a cottonmouth snake and teach us about this serpent by the sea. 

When we got back into town, a church message on being "daring" in faith provided a closing touch to the trip. The cottonmouth, venemous and what my daughters would classify as "creepy", is not a fellow to touch. Touch - we not dare. What I am willing to grasp is how important faith and family are to me. Beach trip proved that. Amazing Grace proved that. That 2013 wedding recepton proved that. 

On that Sunday afternoon back from the beach, my parents reconnected with our kids. My wife and I headed for one of those Johnstown trails - the Jim Mayer trail. On our bikes and under a beaming sun, we traveled with the Stonycreek, viewing geese and Coal Tubin' tubers floating down the river. Pedailing by my wife, summer vacation was ending in a great way. 

Get out in your community and connect. Discover trails and support local initiatives. Soon school will be back in session, but remember that Mother Nature is always calling. 

Dare I say it - Johnstown is a great place to live. 

Joys and Jolts of July

July is intense. It is the month we wait for all winter. When it arrives, July steams and scorches. It goes by way too fast. Our family went through blood, sweat and tears in the 2019 July...and we still got some July time left. Here are some of the joys and jolts we have experienced so far.

First, let's start with the kaboom, Independence Day. I did not realize my own independence until I had kids. Once you have dependents, you look back on your life and say aloud, "What did I do before I had kids?" "What was 'free time' and how did I spend it?"  No one answers those questions. You are simply surrounded by fireworks and explosions within your own brain. Every 4th of July in Brownstown, the night sky becomes a colorful bombardment of light as my brain tries to process it all. 

On the 5th, my wife and I went on a tour de force of downtown Johnstown via the bicycle. Our children were still recovering from Independence Day and approved of this athletic date night. We parked the Subaru in Cambria City and pedaled our parental hearts out. First stop - Balance. First order - Street Corn. This Main Street eatery makes a damn good street corn. "Local sweet corn deep fried and rolled in spices, mayo and parmesan cheese". 

You know you are getting old when you start a date with street corn. Or, maybe you feel like its the 1800s when you pedal up and order corn. Either way, the 5th was my Independence Day. I had my woman. I had my bicycle. I ate me some corn. 

From there, we rode to the Inclined Plane, the world's steepest vehicular Inclined Plane. We hopped on and rode that pulley system wonder to the top. We rode our bikes around Westmont before ordering calamari on the deck @ Asiago's. That's right, we went street corn to deck squid. Parents gone wild!

Exactly a week later, we biked again from Cambria City to downtown, this time to destination Flood City Cafe. The fusion of biking and food and music is alive in downtown Johnstown. This movement, both literal and figurative, is starting to take shape. We listened to The Evergreens play at multiple locations throughout July. This female duo takes some classic songs and breathes new life into familiar lyrics. My daughters and I have powerfully danced to their power ballads for years now. We even got to sing Happy Birthday to my wife from the Flood City Cafe stage with The Evergreens on this occasion.  

Bottomline - go into downtown Johnstown by car, bike, or horse and buggy. Eat the food. Support local musicians. Dance. 

The next day, I took my 4-year-old and 2-year-old daughters camping in Bedford. Nestled in the countryside is Dunning Creek. There, on the second Saturday of July, you would have found 2 Dads and 4 daughters. We had tents. We had boats. We had mud. There was only one Mom and her name was Mother Nature. 

It was a great adventure. During the canoeing of Dunning Creek, I was Lewis. My 4-year-old was Clark. My 2-year-old was Asleep. Lewis had to paddle, up stream, and had to paddle around Asleep's body. Clark did not have a paddle, but was full of ideas. Lewis, Clark and Asleep made it to shore. Asleep remained asleep while Lewis freed Asleep from her life jacket. Clark went back to making "mud balls" and throwing them at a tree. Greatness in the The Outdoors. Next up, The Barn. 

The 26th edition of Barnball was potentially the hottest on record. This 2-on-2 basketball tournament is surrounded by hay and a strong sense of community. In 2019, my partner and I gave it everything we had in sauna-like heat. For the second time in my barnyard life, I finished in second place. The traditional and perfect award for 2nd place - Frank's Red Hot. 

The day after Barnball requires water therapy. I attended a Stackhouse Park birthday party. I soaked my bones in the stream like a true pioneer. I caught salamanders for the kids. We turned a watering hole into a celebration. It was a great way to end the weekend and start the recovery process. 

From biking to canoeing to barnballing, I am grateful...for my family, for my health, for my town. 

Finish July joyfully by starting with some good-old fashioned gratitude...

and maybe some street corn.